


Take Comfort In Your Friends

by sublime42



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Crying, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, OOC, Vomiting, snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-24 18:20:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12018399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sublime42/pseuds/sublime42
Summary: After the events of 42, Martha finds the Doctor crying and comforts him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just got into Doctor Who. I'm crazy late, right? I feel like the Doctor could use some TLC. This is probably OOC. There will be lots of h/c, angst, and fluff. It starts right after episode "42".

Martha had just gotten out of the shower when she heard it. She raised an eyebrow. She had to be hearing things, she told herself. She and the Doctor were the only ones on the TARDIS, and though she’d seen him afraid, angry and generally upset, he’d never cried.

Carefully, she moved towards the door to the Doctor’s bedroom, trying to see if perhaps her ears were in fact playing tricks.

As she approached the sound of sobbing only grew louder. Well, if he was so upset, he had good reason. Their escapade on the S.S. Pentallion had been awful; anyone would have cause to cry over it.

She stood outside, unsure of what to do. The Doctor seemed very private with his emotions, and she wondered if disturbing him would make him angry. She couldn’t just leave him, though. Not like that. It went against everything in her to do so.

Frowning, she cracked open the door and slowly made her way inside.

She could see the Doctor, curled up on his bed, clutching a pillow to his chest while he cried into another one. Blankets twisted around his legs, and he was breathing raggedly. 

“Doctor,” she said, as she approached him. “Doctor, what’s wrong?”

She laid a hand on his shoulder and he flinched, apparently caught off guard by her presence.

“Martha!” He choked, quickly pushing himself into a sitting position. “Martha, how - what’s - why -” He began frantically wiping his cheeks, trying to remove his tears, but they kept on coming. It just seemed to upset him more.

Martha sat on the edge of the bed.

“I heard you,” she said, softly. She yearned to comfort him somehow, but she worried about his initial reaction to her touch. 

“I-I,” he started, “I’m sorry - you - you don’t have to stay -I’ll stop -” he began to cough, which only made him cry harder.

“I’m fine,” he managed to choke out.

“Clearly you’re not,” Martha replied. She slowly reached for his hand, “May I touch you?”

The Doctor sniffed, and nodded. 

The feeling of Martha’s warm hand on his own cooler one did something to him, somehow opening the floodgates more-so. He found himself reaching out to her, wanting to be held. 

Martha complied, taking him into her arms. He rested his head on her shoulder, hiccuping as he felt her other hand begin to rub his back.

He was being ridiculous, he knew, but he’d had to let it out. The whole thing with the Torajji taking over him, seeing Martha and Riley kiss, how it’d reminded him of Rose, which had in turned remind him of all those he’d loved and lost…He’d been spiraling ever since they’d left.

Martha continued to rub his back, making nonsense noises in his ear. After a while her hand moved to his hair, and she began to play with it. 

“Poor Doctor,” she murmured, rocking him back and forth. The action was very calming, and suddenly, the Doctor found himself tiring.

He sniffled, finally feeling like he was done crying, at least for the time being. Still, Martha held onto him, and for that he was grateful.

By the time she finally let go, he was half asleep. She lowered him back onto the bed, and turned over his pillow so that he wouldn’t be lying in his own tears and snot. Her own outfit was covered in them, but she’d worry about that later.

Martha pulled the covers up over him, tucking him in. She wished she knew the layout of his room better, as she’d have liked to get him into pajamas. Sleeping in a suit couldn’t be too comfortable. But, he seemed alright.

She waited with him for another few minutes, gently rubbing his back. When she saw his eyes fully close, she quietly stood up, planning to get him a glass of water for the morning and some tissues in case he needed to blow his nose. She’d taken only one step when she felt something grab onto her robe. 

“Doctor?” She asked, turning back around.

“Martha...please don’t go,” he begged. His eyes were filling with tears yet again.

“Oh,” she said, surprised. The Doctor didn’t seem to be the overly clingy type, but how could she say no when he was looking at her like that?

“Please,” he tried again. “Don’t want to be alone. Just for a little bit, until I go to sleep...”

Martha smiled at him.

“Of course I’ll stay with you. I was just getting you some water was all.”

With that she climbed into his bed. Hoping she wasn’t overstepping her bounds, she followed her instincts and turned towards him, wrapping her arms around him. Hearing him sigh in relief, she felt she’d done the right thing. 

She laid there, rubbing his chest and stomach, until she heard his breathing even out.

They’d have a lot to discuss in the morning, but she’d worry about that then.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor starts to realize that talking to friends and letting them help you actually feels good. More h/c and fluff.

Martha woke the next morning to find that the Doctor was lying across her, his head nestled on her chest. He was snoring softly, looking incredibly young and innocent. 

The sight made Martha happy. She gently ran her hand through his hair, and he slowly cracked his eyes open.

“Sorry, Doctor. Didn’t mean to wake you,” she told him.

“Huh? Oh…” he looked over his position, and, to her surprise, didn’t move. 

“Is this okay?” He finally asked, after several seconds of silence. “I..I can move…”

“Of course it’s okay. Snuggle all you like,” she replied, giving him a smile.

He looked at her appreciatively before wrapping an arm around her, holding her tightly. 

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to think everything over.

This wasn’t like him, not at all. He rarely got so physical with his companions, yet Martha’s touch was so comforting, so warm. He couldn’t bring himself to get up, unless she’d wanted him to, of course. 

They laid there for several more minutes, Martha slowly rubbing his back. The Doctor was still so tired, but he doubted he’d get back to sleep. 

“I know you’re awake,” she finally said. “You don’t have to tell me about what was bothering you now, but we should talk eventually.”

The Doctor sniffled and shifted. 

“Bad memories, Martha…”

Martha nodded, and petted him again.

“They bother you a lot?”

He nodded, rubbing his cheek against her robe. Her smell was oddly comforting. He wondered how he’d never noticed it before.

00

An hour later, the two sat in the kitchen of the TARDIS. Martha was moving around, pulling out tea bags and the kettle, intent on making them both a cuppa. The Doctor sat at the table, arms wrapped around himself.

Now that he was fully awake, he felt embarrassed. He’d shown such weakness to the person he was supposed to be protecting! It was horrible, and the thought of it made him feel sick to his stomach.

Martha set a tea cup down in front of him, and he wrapped his hands around it, enjoying the warmth it brought. It took his mind off of everything, at least a little bit.

“You like bananas, right?” She asked, as she searched the cupboards.

“I’m not hungry,” he muttered in response.

“Nonsense. You’re too skinny as it is. You’ll have to have at least a little breakfast.”

He didn’t reply. He was too deep in thought, considering what he should do. It would probably be best to just drop Martha off at home and do his best to forget that this had ever happened. Maybe in time the sting of humiliation would lessen. 

But, it had felt so good to let his emotions out, to be held by someone… he couldn’t get the thought of it out of his head. He felt like a weight had been lifted off of him. Not a huge one, but still. And Martha seemed like she really cared, really wanted to know what was on his mind. Really wanted to help.

He’d always pushed it all down, tried not to let his pain interfere with things, but sometimes it hurt so badly.

“Here we go,” Martha said, placing a bowl of oatmeal with cut up bananas topping it. 

The smell made the Doctor’s mouth water and his stomach growled. Maybe he actually was hungry. The nausea he felt began to dissipate, and after seeing Martha calmly eat her own food, he brought his spoon to his lips.

The pair ate in silence, the Doctor scraping the last of his breakfast from the bowl before pushing it away.

“‘Not hungry’ my arse,” Martha joked, taking the bowl from him.

As she began to wash up the dishes, the Doctor spoke again, feeling a bit more confident now that Martha’s back was turned to him. He didn’t think he’d be able to look her in the eyes during such a conversation.

“I was thinking of Rose,” he said, “And I lost her, like I’d told you. And seeing you and Riley kissing just brought it back.”

“How did you lose her?” Martha asked, “If you’re willing to tell me.”

00

The Doctor told Martha about how he’d picked Rose up, taken her as his passenger, how he’d lost her forever, burned out a sun to say goodbye but hadn’t been able to tell her his true feelings. In the end he’d begun to cry again. Seeing this, Martha stopped her chores and made her way over.

The Doctor flinched slightly as he felt her wrap her arms around him from behind, resting her head on his shoulder. But she didn’t pull away, and a second later, the Doctor found himself realizing that the hug she was giving him felt good. She was so warm, and he could feel her heart beating against his back. The rhythm of it calmed him, and it wasn’t long before he began to dry his eyes. Martha handed him a tissue to blow his nose, and the Doctor surprised himself again by yawning.

Martha took it from there, escorting him back to his bedroom. They’d had an adventure planned, but it could wait. Obviously, the Doctor needed more rest.

Sitting him on the edge of his bed, she helped him remove his jacket, surprised that he didn’t try to fight her on it. Really, he was just too drained to help.

“Do you have any sleepwear?” She questioned, looking around the room.

The Doctor motioned towards a dresser.

“Top drawer,” he whispered.

Martha nodded and pulled out a flannel set of pajamas that seemed nice and warm.

“Here we go,” she brought them over to him. “Arms up.”

The Doctor complied, letting Martha dress him in the shirt. He didn’t argue when she helped to remove his pants, either, nor did he help her much as she got the flannels up over his legs. She was thankful that she’d had her experiences in medical school helping dressing patients; she had him ready in no time flat.

“Alright, in you go,” she said, pulling back the comforter.

The Doctor crawled into bed, sighing as Martha brought the blanket up over his shoulders.

Within minutes, he was again asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place post _The Family of Blood_. The Doctor takes a step forward.

Martha didn’t think it abnormal that the Doctor had been hiding away lately, apparently doing work on the TARDIS or keeping himself entertained in other ways. The fact that he’d been extremely quiet every time they’d been near each other had thrown her off, though. It seemed near impossible to get a word out of him. 

She knew that his stint as John Smith had done a number on him, that he was probably hurting from it, but she knew that pushing him to talk would only drive him further away. She hoped that in time, he might come to her on his own, that he’d realize how much better it would feel to share his burden with a friend.

The Doctor had been much better off after the last time they’d talked. He had been happier, sleeping better, eating more. Even his eyes looked brighter. Martha noticed a definite difference and she had to admit that she was sad to see him going back into his shell. It was as if all of his progress had been undone.

00

A few days (or what felt like a few days) after they’d left 1913, Martha was relaxing in in the TARDIS’ version of a living room, reading a book she’d found onboard. She’d gotten pretty into it, feeling lost in the plot, and so she didn’t take much notice of her door opening. But upon hearing footsteps, she looked up.

“Doctor? You alright?”

The Doctor certainly didn’t look alright, she thought to herself. He had bags under his eyes and had neglected to shave, not to mention that his clothes were askew. 

“Just checking in on you,” he said, softly, but Martha wondered if there was more to it than that.

“Oh? It’s good to see you again. Wasn’t sure that I would,” she joked.

The Doctor looked at her seriously.

“Why would you say that?”

“Just being funny. You’ve been locked away elsewhere for days, it seems.”

“I had to make some repairs,” he replied, not meeting her gaze.

Martha nodded. It was now or never, she figured. 

“So, would you like to join me?” She offered, making space for him to sit. 

Almost reluctantly, the Doctor sat near her. 

“What’ve you got?” He asked, motioning towards the book.

“It’s a kids book. One of my favorites, actually,” she said, showing him the cover. 

“Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone,” he read off. “That sounds familiar.”

“I found it here. There’s the whole series, actually. It’s not yours, then?”

The Doctor’s shoulders slumped.

“Perhaps Rose brought them onboard,” he answered.

“Ah. Well, they’re quite good, if you want to read them sometime.”

The Doctor considered this for a moment. An idea had crossed his mind.

“Would you read it?” He asked, meekly. 

“To you?” Martha questioned.

The Doctor nodded, still not making eye contact. The feeling of humiliation had returned. For a second he’d thought that maybe this would be a good idea - he wouldn’t have to directly ask Martha for comfort, instead he could just listen to her voice as she read and hope that it was enough to get his mind off of everything. But no, judging by her tone, surely she considered it a strange request. 

“Nevermind,” the Doctor said, pushing himself up.

He felt Martha grab his wrist.

“Don’t be silly, Doctor. I’ll be happy to read it to you. Just that no one’s ever asked me to before is all. Here,” she grabbed a throw pillow and placed it on her lap, “Lie down. You look tired.”

Silently, the Doctor did as he was told. He couldn’t help but sigh as he felt Martha’s hand move to his chest. The weight and warmth of it felt good. 

“We’ll start at the beginning, then,” she said, feeling confident that the Doctor was comfortable. “Thankfully it’s the first book in the series.”

00

It took less than half an hour for the Doctor to fall asleep. Martha had carded her free hand through his hair, rubbed his chest and touched his face as she read, calming him and causing his body to release its tension.

Looking him over, Martha felt bad that she couldn’t do more for him. Had he been a human patient of hers, she would have tried to get him to a counselor, or perhaps on medication. He looked so drained, pale, and thinner than usual, almost like he was sick, though she had heard him say that such a thing rarely happened to Time Lords.

She found the page she’d dog eared earlier and continued to read to herself silently, keeping her hand on him. Then, he started to speak.

At first it was hard to make out what he was saying. It sounded like an apology, something like ‘didn’t want them to die’.

She was pondering whether she should wake him when he started to tremble. She then decided that enough was enough.

“Doctor,” she said, rubbing his shoulder. “Doctor, time to wake up.”

He batted her hand away, then began to curl up. The shaking didn’t subside, though.

Sighing, Martha tried one more time.

“DOCTOR,” she said, shaking him much harder, “You need to wake up!”

The Doctor’s eyes shot open and the gasped for air, nearly falling off the couch as he tried to sit up. 

“Doctor, Doctor, you need to calm down,” Martha tried, quickly grabbing hold of him. “It’s alright, you’re alright, you’re on the TARDIS with me.”

The Doctor’s eyes were huge, and he was looking around everywhere, finally settling a bit when he noticed Martha’s face.

“I-I-” he started, but Martha quieted him.

“Doctor,” she said, calmly as possible, “Take a deep breath.”

She took hold of his hands and watched as he followed her instruction, breathing in and out deeply, the action - and the presence of her hands on his - calming him.

“There we go,” she said, when he seemed to be better off. “It’s okay.”

“It felt so real,” he whispered, squeezing her hands as he spoke. 

“What did you dream of?” 

She noticed he was slowly moving closer to her, eventually resting his head on her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him. 

“I killed them…” He started, tears falling freely from his eyes, “It was my fault.”

“Who?” She knew that he’d been involved in a lot in his long life; his dream could be about anyone, anywhere.

“The people in Farringham. She told me, it was my fault -”

Martha raised an eyebrow.

“Who told you that?”

“N-nurse Redfern. She’s right. I-in my dream, I watched them die.”

Martha wasn’t sure what to say. Her emotions ranged from anger, as she considered it a pretty awful thing for Redfern to say to him, to sadness for the Doctor, who obviously took her words to heart. 

“If they’d gotten you, Doctor, many more might have suffered. You saw how little mercy they had for those people,” she finally told him. 

“Maybe,” he admitted, “or maybe not. Perhaps all they wanted was to live longer, and had I given in, those people would have survived.” That thought brought him further down. “It’s not just them, either, Martha. My species…” he teared up yet again, “...Gone, because of me. If I’d never been loomed…” he trailed off, his breathing becoming ragged. 

Once again at a loss for words, Martha continued to hold him. It was a while before another idea hit her.

“Doctor, if you hadn’t been born, so many people would suffer. I wouldn’t be around, nor would anyone in that hospital. You’ve saved so many lives, don’t you realize?”

Hearing that, the Doctor sniffled. 

“Everywhere I go, death and destruction follow.”

“No, Doctor. You saved my life. You saved Rose’s, from what you told me. And so many others. You saved all of Earth! You have done so much! I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”

The Doctor said nothing. Martha pulled him in closer, and, to his shock, planted a kiss on his forehead. 

“Poor Doctor, I wish you could understand how appreciated you are. How many people and beings you’ve helped.”

Slowly, his breathing began to even out. He pressed his nose to Martha’s neck, inhaling her scent, enjoying how it washed away a lot of the pain he was feeling. He closed his eyes again.

“Go back to sleep,” Martha urged him. 

“Don’t leave?” The Doctor begged quietly. “Please?”

“‘Course not. I’ll be right here the whole time,” Martha reassured him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after the year that never was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to asparagusmama for inspiring me with this chapter per our conversations on here! You really helped put things in perspective for me.

It was over. Or, technically, it never happened. Not to the rest of the world, at least. But Martha, her family, Jack and the Doctor, being in the eye of the storm, would remember it for the rest of their lives.

To say she was tired was an understatement. A year of trekking the world had taken its toll on Martha, emotionally and physically, and her mind cried for her to rest, to settle with her family, to heal.

She wanted to go, really. But she couldn’t. Not yet. Not when the Doctor was looking like that - so tired, sad, hurt. She’d be heartless to walk off without trying to help.

Knowing that he could take her back to mere hours after her family’s rescue, so they would barely know she was missing, she boarded the TARDIS to see her friend.

But, she couldn’t find him anywhere.

The TARDIS had so many rooms, and they moved all the time. She sighed, thinking that it would take her hours to find him. Best to try his favorite spots first, she figured.

She checked his room, finding it empty, then checked her own, just in case. On very bad nights he sometimes woke her up asking to sleep there, as if her presence would ward off nightmares. Oddly enough, it usually did. 

But, the room was empty. Next she tried the garden, and there she spotted a figure sitting on a hill, under a tree. She knew that tree, the Doctor had told her that it was grown from seeds found only on Gallifrey, so it had special meaning to him.

Slowly she approached him, finding that he was staring sullenly out at the flowers and grass beneath him.

“May I join you?” She asked.

“Of course,” he replied, patting the ground next to him.

There was silence for a while, both of them looking over the garden, the Doctor trying to find comfort in plants from his home, Martha trying to memorize it, knowing she was unlikely to see it again.

When the time felt right, she finally spoke.

“I’m worried about you,” she admitted, trying to look him in the eye. He refused to meet her gaze.

“No need to worry,” he answered, sounding like he didn’t mean it at all. “I’m fine. I’m always fine.”

Martha paused, considering how best to continue the conversation.

“But that’s the thing, Doctor. I don’t think you are.”

She heard him take a breath sharply, her words hitting him. 

“No, maybe not.” He admitted, softly. “But I will be.”

Frowning, she reached out and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. Without thinking, he moved closer to her, resting his head on her shoulder. He was so cold, she realized. Colder than usual. She wondered if he was sick, or if it was from shock, or what was causing it.

“You alright? Physically, I mean.”

“Just healing. It will hurt for a while, my muscles and bones and all. Being de-aged so quickly takes its toll.”

“I see.”

There was another silence, and Martha felt that this conversation was destined to be awkward.

“Doctor, I won’t pretend to fully understand how you felt about the Master. I mean, he tortured you, my family, Jack. Enslaved so many. _Killed_ so many. But clearly you’ve got a history with him, maybe something I don’t know about. And clearly you were bothered by his death, so as your friend, I’m here for you. If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

A few seconds of silence, followed by a sniffle. Martha looked down and saw that a tear was falling off of the Doctor’s face.

“We were friends at the academy,” he told her, more tears flowing now. “I made it seem like it wasn’t much, but it was. We were close. Inseparable, really. But our paths changed. I never thought I’d see him again, and then, there he was. And I felt so confused…” he trailed off momentarily. “And if he was alive, then I wouldn’t be the last one, either. I wouldn’t be the only Time Lord left. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” Martha answered honestly. “I understand that you lost your friend, even if he was pretty bad in the end. And that you don’t want to be alone.”

The Doctor nodded, crying harder. Martha held him tighter and ran her fingers through his hair, trying to comfort him. The Doctor, in turn, clung to her, nuzzling her neck, feeling the warmth of her body. It helped, just a little bit. 

Eventually the sobs turned into hiccoughs. The Doctor’s eyes were red and bloodshot and there was snot dripping from his nose. Martha rubbed his back and pulled a tissue from her pocket. Handing it over to him, she instructed him to blow.

The Doctor’s hands were shaking as he attempted this, and without prompting, Martha took the tissue and held it in place for him. She’d seen and touched far worse things during her medical rotations, and it didn’t phase her.

The Doctor didn’t have it in him to protest, he simply did as she told him, blowing his nose, trying to focus on Martha’s hand on his back.

He was out of breath by the time he stopped, a combination of physical stress from being so upset while healing and general panic. If something didn’t give soon, his respiratory bypass system would kick in. 

“Doctor,” she said, softly but firmly. “You need to breathe. Come on now. In and out. Follow me.” She took a deep breath, and stared at him, hoping he’d follow.

He did. He listened as she coached him, in and out, in and out, and before long, he was breathing normally. 

“I’m s-sorry,” he told her, once again wrapping his arms around her. “I’m sorry for burdening y-you.”

“Doctor, you’re my friend. I care for you. Listening to you, helping you, is never a burden to me.” 

Knowing she was being truthful, the Doctor nodded.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

00

Some time later, Martha tucked him into bed. His body still hurt, but now his head did too. He refused any medicine, but was obviously very tired, and didn’t fight it when Martha led him to the bedroom and helped to remove most of his clothes.

She snuggled in next to him, wrapping her arms around him as she had many times in the past. 

“You’re going to leave,” he whispered. 

“I need to be with my family,” she said, “I’m sorry.”

The hurt came again, but he was too exhausted to cry. Instead he made a whimpering sound. Martha kissed his neck.

“You can stay with me, if you want,” she offered. “For a bit. I’ll even let you take the bed in my flat. We can talk about all this, all your feelings, everything. And I’ll be there for you every day.”

The offer sounded good, too good. The thought of having someone there, to help him, hold him when he had nightmares, care for him when he was hurt. But he knew it wasn’t something he could do. He had to keep going, keep traveling. It was what he knew, what he was supposed to do. 

“I know you won’t,” Martha continued, already guessing his answer, “But if you change your mind, my door is always open.”

“Thank you, Martha,” he whispered, before closing his eyes, his body’s need for rest finally overtaking him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a sad ending, sorry. But aren't most of them for the Doctor? :(

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I puke blood when I'm stressed so I made the Doctor do it too. :x

The Doctor lay in Martha’s now abandoned bed, holding her pillow to his chest, pressing his nose into another one, inhaling her lingering scent. It comforted him. Not as much as it would have if she were actually there, but it was better than nothing.

He’d saved London from yet another Christmas catastrophe, and had helped save a handful of people on the Titanic from certain death. He knew that he should be content with that. It was truly the best he could do, after all.

But then there were all the others who’d perished. Foon, Morvin. Astrid, especially.

The thought made his stomach hurt and for a short time he thought he might be sick. 

“Breathe,” he told himself, “Just like Martha showed you.”

He tried, really. Taking a deep breath in, holding it, letting it out.

He tried for a while, but it didn’t seem to work.

Her smell was wearing off. Fading. Or maybe he’d just gotten used to it and no longer noticed it as much. 

The tears came. He was pathetic, that much he knew, curled up in his ex-companion’s bed, wishing she was there to hold him. If anyone could see him now, they’d laugh. 

He heard a low hum come from the TARDIS, her way of reassuring him that no one would find his situation funny. That she cared for him, too. 

“I couldn’t save her,” he said aloud, “There wasn’t enough power.”

A warm draft of air hit him and in the back of his mind he could hear the TARDIS tell him that it wasn’t his fault.

_Flying, not falling, remember?_

It was too much. He scrambled up from the bed, kicking away the blankets frantically, and ran to the bathroom where he vomited. He was horrified to see specs of blood in it and his hearts began to beat faster.

Again, a hum. 

_You need to take care of yourself._

“I’m fine!” He shouted, still panting heavily. 

The cell phone that Martha had left him suddenly fell into view. How had it gotten there? He shook the thought off. Who cared? 

_Call her._

“Why? She’s busy with her family and life, I don’t want to interrupt that!”

_She’ll help you. You’re not well._

Another wave of nausea hit, and this time, there was more blood. 

There was a hum that sounded like a sigh. Obviously, the Doctor wasn’t going to listen to reason.

_Go back to bed._

“First bright idea you’ve had all day,” the Doctor murmured, halfheartedly. He could never be angry at the old girl for too long, and it wasn’t like she’d done anything really wrong to begin with. He was just overly upset.

He stumbled back to Martha’s room and threw himself onto the mattress, hearts still racing. 

Phone in one hand, Martha’s pillow under his arm, he hid himself under her comforter. It was dark and warm and it calmed him slightly.

Maybe the TARDIS was right. He hadn’t exactly been eating or sleeping properly, and as tough as Time Lords were, even they could become ill without proper care.

_Martha wouldn’t want that._

“No, you’re right. She would be upset if she saw me like this. Pathetic, really.” He held the pillow tighter as his heart rate slowed further.

He was so tired. And sleeping would probably help heal any internal issues that he had, too.

He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent again. 

He would be fine. He was always fine. Maybe it would take a while, but he’d get there, eventually.


End file.
